by Elisa Adams
She nodded. “Mmm.”
He smiled wickedly. “Good. I still haven’t tasted you yet tonight. I can’t go a second without thinking how incredible your flavor is.”
A thrill ran through her when she remembered the last time he’d fed off her. She’d been scared, but if she’d known it was that good she would have found a vampire lover a hell of a lot sooner. She didn’t look forward to going back to the real world and finding a mortal lover.
“Is the feeding a necessary part for you?”
“Not all the time. Sometimes.” He paused and looked down at her. “Does it bother you?”
Was he out of his mind? “No. I just wondered.”
“You seem to be doing a lot of that lately.”
“I guess.”
Now that she thought about it, she had. Where had this sudden curiosity come from? Probably it had a little bit to do with the fact that she’d played a vampire for so long, and according to Marco, had been doing it all wrong. Some small part of her had actually become Midnight Morris, and it hurt in a way to have that part of her challenged.
She also wanted to be able to understand Marco. He was a mystery to her, and she somehow felt connected to him. She wanted to learn all she could about what he was.
Or maybe she was just spending way too much time with no one for company but a cranky vampire. His habits were growing on her. She shook her head, thinking that when this was over they’d probably both need to be committed.
Marco picked her up and carried her upstairs to his bedroom. “I want to stay with you tonight. All night.”
She nodded. There was no sense denying how she felt. She wanted him here, he wanted to be here. Whatever problems they had with each other, they didn’t extend into the bedroom.
That was a good thing, because she’d never met a man who could make her come so hard and yet not act like he was king of the world. She hated to admit it, but the conflict made things interesting.
She’d had so much conflict growing up that she’d started to thrive on it. The past couple of years she hadn’t had much. Everyone in her life went out of their way to agree with what she said. Well, they had up until the whole porn movie bit. She had started to miss the tension, in some sick and demented way. With Marco, there was conflict abounding in spades. She enjoyed it a lot more than she’d ever tell him.
He nipped her shoulder as he settled her into the mattress. She shivered.
“Are you cold?”
She shook her head. Not even close. She was burning up.
Every nerve in her body felt scorched, and she was afraid she would never recover. She felt the sting of Marco’s fangs at the same time she felt his cock push into her cunt. The sensations drove her over the edge into another shattering climax. There was something about those teeth piercing her skin…she couldn’t describe it, but the pleasure was unmatched by anything she’d ever experienced.
She clung to him helplessly, her entire body quivering. The tremors washed over her, made more intense by the feeling of his hard shaft sliding in and out of her body. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels into his buttocks, trying to draw him even closer. He responded with a growl, lifting her rear with his hand and thrusting even deeper.
His muscles tensed and bunched under her hands and his suckling at her throat grew harder. She tilted her chin as high as she could, letting him take what he wanted. Too soon, he stopped. He released her neck, trailing a path of open mouthed kisses from her throat to her collarbone, and finally to her breasts. He nipped the sensitive skin gently before taking one distended nipple into his mouth.
She moaned as the feel of his hot, wet mouth sent her into a series of soft, tiny climaxes that only made her burn for more. Her inner muscles clenched him tightly as he thrust deeply inside her. The tips of his fangs scraped over her nipple and along the sides of her breast until she was one big bundle of quaking nerves, a time bomb set to go off at the slightest touch. She let her head roll back on the pillow to enjoy the ride.
Marco’s thrusts grew quicker and more erratic. He was no longer gentle, his body ramming hers with force. She threaded her hands through his hair and pulled him closer for a kiss. The lingering taste of her blood in his mouth should have turned her off. It didn’t.
It made her hotter instead. She was on fire. She was on the brink of what promised to be another earth-shattering climax, and all it would take was one stroke at just the right angle to do it. She shifted her hips a little and her world exploded. Marco came with her, his mouth leaving hers as a guttural cry escaped his lips.
He held his weight off of her, supporting himself on his elbows. She could feel him shaking above her and she tried to pull him on top of her. He resisted. He rolled to his back, bringing her with him and tucking her against his chest. His heart was pounding as hard as hers. He stroked her hair gently and brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I think I took too much.” He sighed audibly. “I should have been more careful. I could have really hurt you this time.”
“Don’t be silly. I feel fine.” But even as she said it, she felt a little light-headed. It was probably just his suggestion that did it. He hadn’t fed for long.
“You won’t later.” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and kissed the top of her head. “I’m not supposed to feel this way with you.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Why not?”
He didn’t answer. She looked up at him. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn’t asleep. She decided not to ruin the afterglow and push it. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before she settled against him. He wanted to stay tonight, fine. But in the morning he was going to have some talking to do. When they woke up and the euphoria was gone, she could interrogate him to her heart’s content. For now, she’d back off. Who knows, maybe for once he’d decide to tell her something on his own, without her needling him first.
Chapter 9
Marco was still sleeping when Amara woke up. Careful not to disturb him, she crawled out of bed, grabbed the robe she’d found hanging in the closet, and went down to the kitchen for breakfast. Or lunch, since it was nearing noon. Her whole schedule was disrupted, and she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever get back to where she’d been before she came here. Maybe she didn’t even want to. She was kind of enjoying being lazy for once, instead of putting in fourteen hour days on the set.
She looked through the cabinets, but nothing appealed to her. Giving up on the idea of food, she settled for brewing a pot of coffee, and, when it was finished, carried it into the living room. She’d been in the room before, but she hadn’t really had a chance to study a couple of paintings that she’d noticed. She definitely wanted to get a closer look.
One in particular, an oil painting of an incredibly beautiful green valley, caught her attention. It was breathtaking. The ground was covered with trees, and a wide blue river cut through the bottom of the valley. A large white house sat near the top of the far hill, flanked by a rather large vineyard, but other than that there weren’t many buildings around. She wondered where this was. It was a place she’d certainly like to visit someday, just to see if the view was as beautiful in person as it was on the canvas.
After a moment she knew Marco was behind her. She didn’t need to turn to see, she just felt him there. It was a strange sensation, and a little unsettling. “Where is this place?”
If her newly acquired powers of perception bothered him, he didn’t show it. He stepped closer and put his hands on her waist. “That’s my home. It’s the Douro River Valley in Portugal.”
That explained the barely noticeable accent. “You’re from Portugal.”
“Originally, yes. That house was mine for a long time. I owned the vineyard for close to a hundred years.”
“It’s very beautiful.” She was going to pretend the whole ‘hundred years’ part didn’t bother her. “Why did you leave?”
“It was time to move on. I’d spent far too long mourning old ghosts, grieving a past that I could never get back. I sold the property and left.” He nuzzled her hair with his chin. “The current owners have turned it into a bed and breakfast of sorts. Whenever I visit, I stay there.”
“Do you visit often?”
“Not as often as I’d like, but I go when I can.”
“I’d like to go with you sometime.” It slipped out before she had a chance to stop it, and she wished she could take it back. He wouldn’t keep her around long enough to be making trips to foreign countries with her.
He surprised her. “Would you really want to? I’d like that.”
He seemed unusually receptive today, and she wanted to take advantage of it while she had the chance. “Tell me about your family.”
He sighed. “My parents were farmers in the valley. They’ve been gone too many years. I had one sibling growing up, a brother.”
“It must have been nice having someone to play with.”
“We were close.”
He was silent for a little too long. She was afraid that if she let him keep quiet much longer, he’d shut her out again. She wanted to know about him. “Do you work, or do you just go around kidnapping unsuspecting women?”
He laughed. “I’ve had many jobs over the years. I’m taking a break right now, but up until a few months ago I was a stock broker on Wall Street.”
“You’re kidding me.” She had a hard time picturing Marco within a hundred feet of Wall Street.
“Nope. I did that for ten years. Now I think it’s time for something else. I might go back to painting for a while.”
“You paint?” She narrowed her eyes, trying to read the signature on the painting in front of them. “That’s yours, isn’t it?”
He nodded.
“Cardoso? So ‘Just Marco’ has a last name after all.”
“That’s the name I was born with, but I haven’t used it publicly for a while.” He shifted, pulling her back against him. “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
It couldn’t really be this easy. What was the catch? “How can you possibly afford to take time off? This house must have cost you a fortune.”
“In four hundred years I’ve managed to accumulate enough to see to my needs.” He paused and drew a deep breath. “I’m sure you can afford some time off, too.”
“A little while, but I wasn’t exactly careful about my spending habits.” She hadn’t expected to lose her job. Sometimes life bit the big one. “If you’re still worried about me capitalizing on picking on your race, don’t. Most of that money is gone.” Some of it to Derek’s drug habit and all the expensive rehabs, but she wasn’t going to share that with Marco.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was barely a whisper against her hair.
“For what? You didn’t spend the money.”
“Not about the money, Amara. About everything else.”
It took her a moment to realize what he was saying. She pulled out of his arms and turned to face him. “If this is about kidnapping me, forget it. It’s done. You can’t take it back now. Let’s just move on, okay.”
Marco sighed and ran a hand down his face. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He just stared at her, his expression a mix between guilt and pain.
She tried to lighten the mood. “Don’t feel bad. I’m over it.”
His expression darkened. When he spoke, his voice was a low growl. “You shouldn’t be.”
He stalked out of the room. She thought about going after him, but changed her mind. When he was ready to talk, and not growl, he knew where to find her. It wasn’t like she was going to leave or anything.
* * * * *
He was out of his mind.
Amara did not belong to him. She may have agreed to stay, for now, but that didn’t give him the right to hold her to it. She’d been acting strangely for a little while—first the dizzy spell she had, and then her agreeable attitude. He hadn’t known her long, but he knew enough to see that she wasn’t putting up as much of a fight about staying as she normally would. Something with her wasn’t right.
She’d never admit to it, though, so asking what was wrong would be pointless. She’d blame it all on stress, on the kidnapping, and the fact that she thought he was a lunatic.
She was right.
Somewhere along the line he’d plunged over the cliff of sanity. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to redeem himself before she walked out on him for good.
He leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk he kept in the small study. The house was relatively quiet—he’d heard Amara sneak back upstairs after he left her. She was probably sound asleep by now, her curvy body splayed across his sheets. Her hair fanned across the pillow. His pillow.
He cursed himself for thinking such thoughts. He needed to stay away from her for a while and let the poor woman get some sleep. She could probably use a couple days’ rest at the least. He’d been feeding too much. At this rate he’d drain her dry before he even got the chance to return her home.
That was another cause of conflict. His original intentions had gotten twisted along the way. Forget teaching the woman a lesson, he just wanted to find some way to keep her here short of strapping her to his bed for all eternity.
Not that strapping her to his bed wasn’t an intriguing prospect. But, after the abduction from her home, he had a feeling she wouldn’t go along with it, at least not yet.
This was confusing, to say the least. Never in his life had he imagined he’d ever be so infatuated with a woman he was so confused about. Now he just had to figure out what to do about it.
Chapter 10
Amara sat in a chair facing the bay window in the living room, looking out into the quiet night. With the window cracked open to let in some of the cool spring air, the only sounds were crickets chirping and the occasional splash of the fish in the pond a few hundred yards from the house.
The moon was nearly full, and she was able to admire the serene beauty of the world around her. Why had she ever missed the city? She could get used to this. Too bad she’d never have the chance.
She’d been with Marco for a week. Pretty soon he’d get tired of her and send her home. That’s what always happened—the men in her life got sick of her and moved on. Or, in Derek’s case, slept with every man and woman on the west coast and just neglected to tell her.
It was a little past midnight, and she should be tired. But she wasn’t. She was wide awake, even though she hadn’t slept in almost a day. Marco had sent her to bed to get some sleep while he made a few phone calls, but she’d tossed and turned for two hours. Finally she’d given up. It wasn’t worth the effort.
“What are you doing awake?”
She winced when he switched on the lamp next to the window.
“Hey, are you okay?” He sounded concerned.
She shrugged it off. “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep.”
She hadn’t eaten all day, either, yet she wasn’t hungry. She started to wonder if she was getting sick. It wasn’t like her to not feel the effects of an empty stomach. She’d lived with starvation diets long enough to know the signs.
“Maybe you should see a doctor.”
That would involve going back to the city. She wasn’t ready. She’d gotten too used to Marco’s quiet life, so far from the reality she knew, to want to go back. She shook her head.
“No?”
“No, Marco,” she said. “I don’t want to leave. Not to see a doctor, not for anything.”
He looked worried, and a little upset. “People are probably starting to notice you’re gone.”
She shrugged. “Let them.”
He placed a hand on each of her shoulders. “I have to take you back tomorrow, Amara.”
“Tomorrow?” That couldn’t be possible. She could not let that happen. “Why?”
“You don’t belong to me. It’s not right for me to keep you here like some kind of caged animal.”
“What if I want to stay?” She didn’t feel caged in any way. It had been a while since she’d felt threatened by him. Something had changed. She couldn’t identify what it was, but it felt like everything in her universe had shifted when he’d knocked on her door. Being here, being anywhere, with Marco felt right. She knew she was asking for trouble by protesting, but she no longer cared. She wanted Marco, and she wasn’t ready to leave just yet.
She was supposed to be here. She couldn’t explain it to him, and he’d probably laugh it off if she tried, but she knew this was where she needed to be.
“You can’t. Don’t make this any harder than it is, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I want you to see a doctor. This is really important to me. How about we compromise. You can see a doctor I know. He’s going to come out to the house.”
“What’s the big push with the doctor? I’ve told you I’m fine.”
He didn’t speak for so long, she wondered if he was even listening to her. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, he sounded worried. “Look, there’s something going on with you, whether or not you think you’re fine. You aren’t sleeping, you aren’t eating, you’re very pale and listless. I’ve seen this before. It could be the symptoms of…”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Symptoms of what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” He shook his head. “Just see the doctor, okay?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What part of this do you not understand? I don’t want to see a doctor. I don’t care whether he’s a friend of yours or not.”
He looked ready to protest, but a knock on the door stopped him. He opened the door and let in another big man. This one wasn’t as dark and scary as Marco, though. With his long, dark blond hair pulled into a ponytail and the goofy tropical print shirt he wore, he reminded her of a typical; Southern California beach bum. He was imposing, but not in a way that scared her.